Considering the Unrepresented

November 22, 2011

When I interviewed for the job of MHSAA executive director in the spring of 1986, I was asked about my administrative philosophies and approaches to problem solving.  I don’t recall now all I said then, but I do clearly remember saying I would “err in favor of kids.”  I meant that, when a difficult situation presented an unclear choice, I would give the benefit of doubt to kids.

That was somewhat naïve, I suppose; but I still do bring that mindset to situations that appear to be a toss-up.

Over the years I’ve stumbled upon or consciously cultivated other lessons for myself, and I have shared some of them with my dedicated colleagues at the MHSAA.  Of many, here’s the first of six (the other five will be presented in subsequent blogs):  Consider those not in the room or not at the table.

When people propose a change in a rule, consider where they are coming from, and consider those who are not present who may have different circumstances, perspectives and needs.

If the proposal is from large schools, consider how it might affect small schools.  If from southern schools, how it might affect northern schools.  If from suburban schools, how it might affect urban or rural.  If from football coaches, how it might affect other sports; if from a winter sport, how it might affect fall or spring sports.

When people seek from the Executive Committee waiver of a particular rule on behalf of one student, ask how that waiver would affect those not present against whom this student would compete.

When someone seeks relief from a penalty, ask how that will affect those not present, including those who have received the penalty in the past or should receive the penalty in the future.

Considering those who are not in the room who may be affected by a proposal by those who are in the room has been a gift given to me by Keith Eldred of Williamston who served on the Representative Council over 25 years ending in 2008.

Gut Check

October 18, 2016

After nearly eight years on the staff of the National Federation of State High school Associations, I accepted the challenge of leading an effort by a private business to consolidate the insurance needs of high school athletic associations and to control their coverages and costs through a self-insuring pool. My assigned goal was to assemble at least half of the 50 states in this fund. The need was so great at that time for comprehensive general liability and directors and officers insurance tailored to the unique needs of state high school athletic associations, that the group was quickly assembled and launched.

My time leading this effort was brief. In spite of the program's immediate success and continued growth, I became uncomfortable. The discomfort was born and grew in the fact that while I was out meeting with states, decisions were being made back at the home office that I was not involved with or aware of. I began to feel used ... my credibility was bringing in business, but changes were being made without my input; and I feared for my reputation. After a year of this, I resigned the position. That was 1981.

Nine years later, the companies' CEO was terminated when it was discovered that he used the construction of a company headquarters office to build himself a new house at the same time, burying his home construction costs into the books of the companies' capital expenses. Seven years after that, the companies' founder and namesake went to jail for operating from 1984 until at least 1993 what was determined to have been a Ponzi-like scheme.

I listened to my gut which, long before my head, knew something was not right. In fact, my gut seemed on alert well before things went wrong. This has happened at other crossroads and dozens of less dramatic moments in my professional and personal lives.

In this time of increasingly complex and difficult decisions, both personal and professional, the gut may be a good guide for us all.